


Catharsis

by Garowyn



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 05:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garowyn/pseuds/Garowyn
Summary: Set during the Farewell Shinsengumi arc. Tae defends wounded soldiers, but suffers a loss she cannot forget, leading to a conversation with Hijikata, who already knows the horrors of war.





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama (except for Kawano, who I created). Took a few liberties with details and expanded on possibilities. Rated for war violence, but it’s not graphic enough to be considered M. Partial character study. If you don’t think Hijikata and Tae are capable of having a serious conversation, then I suggest reviewing the Yagyuu arc (also bear in mind that Sorachi does write chapters in which there are no non-stop gags and jokes). The nature of their interactions in this fic is mostly gen, but upon suggestion, I added their ship tag for those who wish to find fic focused primarily on these two.

Half-dragging a wounded man across the sand and into the water, Tae grunted and heaved the Shinsengumi soldier into a waiting boat, aided by the reaching arms of two Joui men. None of them questioned her presence as an unknown woman in the midst of battle, but only urged her to hurry and climb in, as the ground quaked beneath another explosion. The subsequent glow of firelight on their bloodied faces startled her briefly, and she turned to look, swallowing hard at the patches of wildfire spreading through the trees and the black smoke rising into the starless sky.

Everyone she knew personally was out there in the chaos, battling against a barrage of weaponry on the ground and from the air. None of them would leave until their general, their friend, and every soul within their reach was secured and taken to safety.

A signal flare had gone up only minutes ago, and from then on, they’d been running for their lives, following Hijikata’s strict orders to escape, whether he and Kondou or even Katsura were with them or not. Shinsengumi and Joui worked together to protect and guide each other to the boats.

As for the Yorozuya, Tae could only trust that they would fulfill their promise to bring everyone back. Accepting any other option – failure or death – was impossible and unthinkable. She would believe in them.

“Let’s go!” a Shinsengumi soldier shouted, pushing off the shoreline with a paddle.

Tae climbed in and crawled over to the soldier she’d rescued to inspect his wound, taking notice of the growing bloodstains. The man had sustained an injury in his lower left torso, and if they didn’t stop the bleeding and bring him to a proper medical facility, he would succumb to death. Whoever had pierced him had known this, having removed their weapon entirely, denying him a tourniquet.

“Give me your jacket!” she called to one of the paddlers, “Hurry!”

Realizing her intent, the solider quickly discarded the top half of his uniform and threw it at her before resuming his work.

Tae caught it in one hand and folded it into a useable lump. “Hold this here and don’t let go,” Tae ordered, lifting the man’s arm and replacing his hand with the jacket.

Groaning, he pressed it tight against his wound, face contorted in pain, breathing hard. “You should have left me,” he gasped, sweat matting black hair to his forehead, tears glistening in his eyes, “I didn’t get there in time…I let him die…”

Tae guessed he spoke of a comrade, likely one of the bodies left on shore. “Don’t try to talk.”

“I-I couldn’t do a damn thing in the end,” the man continued, ignoring her words, “but I tried…I tried to clear the path for Vice-Chief…we all did…”

“And you succeeded. Hijikata-san and Kondou-san will be proud.”

“You should have…left me…”

“We’re not leaving anyone behind. You still have a chance.”

“I’ve lost too much blood, I—”

“ _Enough_. You’re going to live because I _said so_. This is not the end – do you hear me? Stay awake. I will look after you, we’ll get you to safety. Do you understand?”

Nodding, the man shut his eyes and clenched his teeth.

After checking over his body for any other visible wounds and making sure the rest of the men on the boat with her weren’t on the verge of death, Tae lifted her eyes to the dark sky, scanning it for any lights, any barest hint of an airship bearing their reinforcements.

_“Look out!!”_

Tae covered her ears when the shrill whistle of a cannon blast drowned out all other warning shouts, the impact catapulting boats and soldiers high into the air with the waves and drenching those nearest.

Tae counted her blessings that they had been far enough away from the bomb’s path, as she gripped the side of the rocking boat with one hand and steadied the wounded solider with the other. She took deep breaths, trying to stay focused on anything but the thought of their boat as the next target.

Behind her, men still fought on the beach, the wind carrying sword clamours and death cries to her ears. Wishing she had been able to fight more to defend her keep, Tae eyed her naginata on the floor of the boat, having tossed it there before running to retrieve the fallen soldier. The blood had begun to dry on the blade’s edge, as dark as the stains on her kimono.

She had swung her weapon multiple times at oncoming enemies, incapacitating them, driving them into the sand or water, stopping them in their tracks. Whether any had died because of her efforts was something she feared to dwell on. She had never killed a person before, but had injured people to various extents, like in the Battle for Kabuki-chou. Strike to indispose, never to kill.

In spite of that, she knew Shinpachi and Kagura had seen more warfare than she had, pushed to their physical and psychological limits. She was older, but ironically more innocent in that aspect, and didn’t dare compare herself to Gintoki, a war veteran since his teenage years.

Tonight, Tae could relate more to the Yorozuya’s experiences. Here on the shores of Kokujou Island and in the surrounding waters, she had seen flame take hold of flesh amid screams of agony; blades slashing and gutting, spilling blood and life. Men fell and never rose again. Factions and banners didn’t matter anymore because they were all the same soulless shells in the end, and she mourned for them.

The wounded soldier hissed and groaned, “Vice-Chief…”

Tae clasped his right shoulder. “Hold on, we’re almost—”

An enemy soldier wordlessly broke through the water’s surface, grabbing the edge of the boat and stabbing one of the paddlers through the arm.

Yelling, the Joui soldiers moved to intercept the enemy when another grabbed the second paddler from the other side, twisting one muscular arm around his neck and using the other to plunge into his chest with a short blade, dragging the screaming man into the waters.

Barely able to comprehend the loss, Tae reached for the fallen paddle and took over rowing. She had to keep them moving toward the open ocean, away from the island, away from enemy pursuit, even if they were veering off course with only one paddler working.

These enemy soldiers weren’t the Mimawarigumi, because they had allied with the Shinsengumi and Joui shortly after a command from their vice-chief forced them to flee around the same time the signal flare was sighted. The soldier who attacked their boat was the same as those on the shoreline fighting with a shakujou and wearing a sedge hat. They resembled monks more than soldiers and emitted an air of treachery rather than piety. The second she had spotted them, Tae had fallen back toward the boats, sensing she and many others would be no match for them. They were less like humans and more like birds of prey.

Through her instincts alone, Tae knew something on Kokujou Island had gone terribly, deeply wrong.

After fending off the other enemy, the Joui soldiers split into the tasks of rowing for the injured paddler and guarding the front of the boat.

Tae kept her eyes on the water. In the darkness lighted only by the fires on the island, the farther away one rowed, the harder it grew to tell those swimming for safety apart from those swimming to attack surreptitiously.

She whipped her head around at a splash beside the boat to see the same enemy solider from before, reaching for her with an outstretched hand and the other with that same short blade.

Choking back a cry, Tae reached for her naginata without taking her eyes off him—only for her nails to scrape against wet wood. Horror filled her and her mind screamed, _Shinpachi_ —

The enemy solider yelped in pain, as her naginata sliced his neck open at the side, blood spurting out from a pumping vein. He sank back into the water, his dying cries silenced by the waves.

“Now I won’t die a coward who couldn’t protect anyone!”

Tae gasped and spun around.

The wounded solider she’d rescued was holding her weapon with a triumphant expression, standing with fresh blood running down his side. Then, he collapsed to his knees and fell backward, the naginata clattering onto the boat floor.

“No!” Tae left the paddle and rushed over to him, lifting his upper body up with his head falling against her shoulder.

“I…I knew he’d come back,” the soldier breathlessly told her, “The Vice-Chief…I knew he’d come back…”

“Don’t talk, save your strength!” Tae ordered him, feeling around the clammy skin of his neck for a pulse.

“He… He’ll save the Chief… We…we believe in him… _I_ believe in him,” he rasped, pulse weakening with every passing second. “Vice-Chief…”

“What’s your name?” she demanded, “Hurry, tell me!”

“Ka…Kawano…”

Tae brushed Kawano’s fringe away from his unfocused eyes and took his hand, laying it against his chest. “Kawano-san, thank you for saving my life. I will tell your vice-chief about how much you believed in him. I will tell your chief of your bravery. The Shinsengumi will not forget you and your sacrifice. You are a true samurai who followed his path to the very end. Kawano-san…you did well.”

Kawano smiled, faintly, and whispered, “Thank you.” His chest heaved once more, then sagged, sighing his final breath.

Tae shut his eyes and held him for a moment longer, barely registering the sound of waves and blast fire and her allies calling out to one another across the water. She had been at the bedside of her parents and watched them pass away, but to feel the life leaving someone close in her arms like this left her hollow and numb _._

“Thank you for sending him off.”

Tae looked up when she heard the voice of the wounded paddler, who had given his uniform for his fallen comrade and was sitting upright, clutching his arm with a somber expression.

“It was the least I could do for him,” Tae said. She reached for the bundled up jacket and gently laid Kawano’s head onto it, setting him down and squeezing his still-warm hand one last time in gratitude and remembrance. Then, she tended to the other solider and bandaged his arm.

The Joui men rowed in silence.

High above them, she heard the buzz of airships attacking the ones hovering over Kokujou Island, signaling the arrival of reinforcements. A few scattered cheers from nearby boats rose up, but Tae couldn’t find the will to join them, as she struggled to hold her tears back.

Their allies had arrived just in time for those left on the island, but far too late for those at sea.

* * *

Walking with a slight limp down makeshift aisles between rows of groaning wounded men, Hijikata scanned faces familiar and unfamiliar for one particular person.

Hijikata hadn’t wanted to leave Kondou’s side, but he needed to check on everyone and assess the damages and casualties. Kondou was resting, surrounded by loyal men, but none more loyal than Sougo. Despite his extensive injuries, Sougo had managed to survive his battle with an enemy that, Hijikata learned, was far greater and stronger than anyone or anything beyond their imaginations. If anyone wanted to get to their Kondou, they’d have to go through Sougo first and it wouldn’t be easy, even while he was injured.

Knowing this, Hijikata could leave Kondou behind with some reassurance that he’d be safe without him. Kondou could get along without him, Hijikata believed, but tonight he had learned that _he_ might not be able to get along without Kondou.

Suppressing dreadful thoughts for fear of confronting them, Hijikata refocused on his task.

He knew the Yorozuya were on-board along with Katsura and the survivors of his faction. All Shinsengumi captains were accounted for despite squad losses. Along with Yamazaki and Saitou, Kozenigata was receiving medical treatment with Haji tending to him. Tetsunosuke stayed near Imai Nobume while she was being treated, probably to ensure she didn’t do anything foolish like throw away the life given to her by Sasaki Isaburou – a man whose death Hijikata was still coming to terms with despite having hated the man.

There was one more person to account for and it wasn’t at Kondou’s request, even though he would most certainly check for her if he knew she had been present at the Battle on Kokujou Island. Civilian lives were of utmost importance, and Hijikata didn’t want to burden Kondou yet with the knowledge of Shimura Tae’s presence. Regaining strength was vital. Until then, Hijikata would take care of everything else.

He had briefly spotted her with the Yorozuya prior to reaching Kokujou Island, and for one moment had considered lecturing the Yorozuya on bringing civilians into battle and into an internal dispute that concerned none of them. However, there had been no time with all of them thrust into danger the minute they were within firing range of the island prison.

Still, he knew nothing would have stopped Tae, as her incomprehensible strength and stubbornness had proved during his encounters with her and the Yorozuya in more peaceful times. Besides, her courageous defiance in defense of Kondou before a man with the authority to execute her on the spot had stayed on his mind since then, always lingering somewhere behind more pressing matters at hand. Tae’s strong convictions impressed him, but he still didn’t like that she had to be involved at all.

He expected to find her with the Yorozuya and quickly tracked them down because of the large dog with them. The Yato girl was slouched against the beast, and the white-haired idiot boss was leaning against the walls, one knee drawn up for his bandaged arm to rest on. Both bore cuts and bruises and bloodstains.

Neither Tae nor her brother was there with them.

“Where are they?” Hijikata asked as soon as he was within earshot, coming to a stop just short of their slumped figures.

Gintoki didn’t answer, but Kagura looked up, bandages covering her right eye as well as her hand and wrist. “You mean Shinpachi and Boss Lady, yes?"

In another time, Hijikata would have a sharp retort reserved for no-brainer questions like this. Instead, he nodded, too exhausted and disheartened over the last forty-eight hours.

“Shinpachi went to get more water,” Kagura answered, “Boss Lady was here with us, but then she left to go check on somebody.”

“Who? Kondou-san?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t know.”

Tae could be anywhere, then. There was another level in the hull above the loading bay they presently occupied. Some of the seriously wounded had been moved there to stay under close vigilance. Perhaps she had gone there.

Hijikata drew in a breath, nodded his thanks, and moved onward.

“Don’t be too hard on her.”

Hijikata paused at the sound of Gintoki’s weary voice and turned his head to the side.

“Say what you want, but she stood up to that idiot Shogun for your boss,” Gintoki continued, “She’s one hell of a woman.”

Facing forward again, Hijikata curtly replied, “I know,” and resumed his search for her.

Before going up to the next level, Hijikata decided to check one place first. On his way there, he glanced in Kondou’s direction, but didn’t see her among those gathering around their general.

Soon, he entered into another enclosure of the bay, a quieter one where the dead – that is, those whose bodies they were able to retrieve under heavy bombardment – lay under ghostly fluorescent lights. Hijikata would always carry the guilt of leaving the rest behind, whether they were Shinsengumi, Mimawarigumi, or Joui. No one deserved that fate before the non-existent mercy of the Naraku and their monstrous leader, a man Yamazaki reported on in hushed tones.

Despite conflicted emotions, Hijikata allowed himself a brief viewing of the fallen, as his slow footsteps resonated in the chamber. Not enough material was available to cover their faces or the bodies with gaping wounds. The stench of blood was strong with faint hints of smoke, and the steady thrum of the airship did little to drown out the weeping of friends.

The first mourner Hijikata passed – a Shinsengumi soldier – immediately rose up to salute, but Hijikata murmured, “At ease,” and continued on, trying to tune out the man’s ensuing sobs.

Once they reached Edo, there wouldn’t be enough time to properly honour the dead and contact their families, but they would try – if the government didn’t arrest them immediately for treason. Hijikata lacked the energy to think about how that would pan out. For now, he was too encumbered with the need to hide his emotions and remain a solid pillar for the rest.

She was standing at the farthest end, gazing down upon a body Hijikata identified as Kawano Haruki, whose dim smile and peaceful expression belied the bloody wound on his side.

Averting his eyes from the gruesome sight, Hijikata examined Tae’s body for any injuries of her own.

Her kimono was mostly in tact except for the frayed edges of her sleeves, one ruined enough to reveal a bandaged arm. There were small smudges of darkened blood on her clothing, the bandages, and her face. Her ponytail hung limp, as though the life had been smothered out of it.

She didn’t seem to notice him.

“Otae-san.”

“Ah, Hijikata-san,” Tae said, bleary eyes acknowledging him, “I was just going to go and see how Kondou-san is doing. I didn’t want to interrupt your time with him.” Her tone was light and airy, as though they were meeting at a dango stand in the middle of a sunny afternoon, surrounded by the living.

“You’re hurt,” Hijikata said, frowning, “What happened?”

“Huh?” Tae looked down at her arm and seemed surprised to see the bandages, fingertips absently stroking the cloth. “Oh, my…when _did_ that happen, I wonder…?” She thought for a few seconds, then continued, “There was a bit of a skirmish when they picked us up. I probably got hit by some shrapnel, but I really don’t remember…it’s funny,” she breathed with a chuckle.

She was acting strangely. The Tae he was familiar with would definitely know all the details of her injury, but instead she seemed to forget it had ever happened. “No, it isn’t,” Hijikata replied, and expected her to frown at him and remark on how wrong he was and whatever difference they had in opinions. He hoped she would.

But all she did was smile.

Not that sweet, unnerving smile he had seen one too many times on the brink of destruction. This one was cheerless and empty, like the platform devoid of Sasaki’s presence in the blink of an eye with Nobume’s chilling screams falling in his wake.

Hijikata recognized in Tae a sense of detachment he often saw in new recruits facing their first serious battle. He knew it wasn’t her first time in battle, thanks to the report on the events concerning the Four Devas of Kabuki-chou, but that didn’t make Tae an experienced soldier. He didn’t yet know the full details of the fighting in the outer edge of Kokujou Island, but he guessed she had seen unforgettable things. Even to this day, he remembered the first time he saw his blade enter flesh with adults screaming around him and deep red seeping into the ground, staining everything it touched, even his soul.

He never forgot how it felt on the receiving end, either.

“What happened?” he repeated in a gentler tone, “What did you see?”

Tae didn’t answer at first and chose to look back down at Kawano, still holding her arm. Hijikata waited, not wanting to force her.

Then, she heaved a deep sigh and lifted her face to the wall. “I saved him…only to lose him. All within five minutes. Maybe less. I don’t remember. I was on my way to the boats when I saw him. He was crawling toward his friend, I think. He mentioned something about failing to protect somebody. Yes, that was probably him…I saw him go down. He was too far away for me to reach in time—”

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like that,” Hijikata cut in, too acquainted with this line of thought and its destination, “When we set out to rescue Kondou-san, we all knew that there would be sacrifices. That’s the first thing I tell recruits when they join.” His brain reminded him that Tae was not a recruit and he was rehashing things she already knew, but he rambled on, “You must be prepared to die in the line of duty or live with the knowledge that your comrade didn’t. It’s a fact of war, of life.” Mitsuba’s face flashed in his mind and his heart ached. “People die…and we carry on.”

“I _know_ , you don’t have to tell me,” Tae snapped, glaring at him, and Hijikata blinked, feeling scolded. “I’ve lost people, too. I’ve said goodbye to more times than I’ve wanted…to my parents, to…” She paused, swallowing and looking away, and Hijikata thought of Obi Hajime and his valiant sacrifice. “Well, the point is, I should be used to death, but this…losing him was different somehow. Kawano-san was right there, he was speaking to me, and then he was… _gone_.”

Hijikata remained silent, fully understanding what that was like. Watching people pass away versus watching them die in the midst of battle – close and not from a distance – was indeed different. Gradual desensitization prevented him from losing his composure on the battlefield and afterward. It was the only way to stay sane.

When Tae turned to look at him again, he found himself transfixed by the sight of her wide, haunted eyes with tears running down her face, like her body had betrayed her emotions first before her mind could realize it. “Otae-san?”

Tae gasped, a hand from her uninjured arm flying to her face to gingerly pat her cheek. “Ah…I…” She looked down at her damp fingertips, blinking. “I’m crying…but why? I barely knew him…?”

Hijikata’s eyes softened. “Because you have a kind heart.”

His words appeared to be the right catalyst, for her lips pressed together as tightly as her eyes shut, shoulders trembling. She didn’t openly sob, tried hard to hold herself together. “I lied to him, telling him he’d be okay,” she whispered, voice faltering, gaze moving to behind him, “I don’t have the right to cry – not when they—”

“Wait, follow me,” he said and turned around without another word, satisfied when he heard her footsteps trail after him.

He led her past the fallen and into an elevator that would take them to the main deck. They passed crew members, some sparing a glance at them, but Hijikata paid them no attention unless they reported to him on the current situation. The air battles had passed and they were on a straight course for Edo.

Outside, the night sky was fading into early morning, faint rays of dawn peeking over the ocean’s edge. The wind was cold, so Hijikata took them to a sheltered area in the back below the bridge. Part of him wanted to return to Kondou, for he had been gone too long already, but the other part believed that Tae needed this time away from the dead to collect herself. And if he was honest, maybe he did, too.

“Why are we here?” Tae asked, voice still heavy with sorrow.

“You say you don’t have the right to cry for the soldiers,” Hijikata answered, “so it’s better if they don’t see you, right?”

Tae sniffled and nodded.

“That’s your reasoning. Mine is…” Crossing his arms, Hijikata slowed to gather the right words, because he still wasn’t sure why he was exerting this much effort for someone he didn’t know as well as the Yorozuya did. This ought to be their job, but there was no going back now. “Well, I don’t think it would be good for their morale.”

“To see a woman crying?”

Hijikata shook his head. “They’ve been helped and healed by you. It’ll depress them to see a…a _leader_ of your stature, somebody who even Kondou-san admires, break down like this. I’m not saying you can’t grieve, but there is a time and place for everything. And after all they’ve been through, the last thing they need is someone they view as an important person to Kondou-san and the Yorozuya, crying like this for them…” He cleared his throat and awkwardly shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I can only speak for the Shinsengumi. I know how much they respect you.” More like fear, but due to all the run-ins with Tae concerning Kondou’s stalking, many of the Shinsengumi members had become acquainted with her reputation and her name, revering her as the Queen of Kabuki-chou.

A queen, who was biting her lower lip and wiping at her eyes, and grieving for soldiers outside her jurisdiction, strangers with five minutes to learn their names and impart words of comfort before they passed on.

One of the men on the boat had told him what she had done for Kawano, moved by her words and actions. That was the other reason Hijikata wanted to find her and personally thank her. She owed them nothing, especially when she was constantly punishing Kondou for stalking her and lashing out at them whenever they proposed marriage on their Kondou’s behalf.

Tae had no obligation whatsoever to have come, but here she was, fighting and mourning with them.

“What you said earlier, about how different Kawano’s death felt to you,” Hijikata finally said when she had gained control of her tears, “I know the feeling. When you’re in the middle of a fight, there’s no time to think, you have to be ready for the unexpected, but even then, you can still be caught off guard.” Like Kondou in the forest.

“Yes…”

“I’ve had many men die on me like that,” he continued, “Die before I can tell them anything worth saying.” Like Sasaki in the sky.

“I asked for his name. I wanted to know – both for myself and to tell you and Kondou-san about him. I was fighting side by side with everyone, but he saved my life and I won’t forget that.”

They stood in silence for a while, watching the ocean far below. Glancing at her, Hijikata saw that she was calm again though still dejected, her hands clasped in front at her waist, tears dried by the wind. It was strange to talk to her and be with her like this, but his mind needed a distraction from all despair.

“I remember Kawano,” Hijikata began, breaking the silence, “Kawano Haruki. He joined us last year. Came from a small coastal village. Told me he didn’t want to fish like his father for the rest of his life. He believed in Kondou-san’s ideals.” His mind conjured up an image of a bright-eyed, eager Kawano, rivaled only by Tetsunosuke in enthusiasm. Kawano prepared the best mackerel sashimi and had a snorting kind of laugh that caused the rest to laugh right along with him.

Hijikata sighed. “He was twenty-two.”

Tae said nothing, lowering her chin with a grim expression, allowing him the chance to see a reddened line on her pale neck. The memory of its origin filled him with fury, as he thought about how Hitotsubashi Nobu Nobu had done everything from insulting the Shinsengumi to harming innocent civilians, and sentencing Kondou to death. Hijikata also cursed himself for allowing the situation to go that far, hurting Tae in the process and provoking Sakata Gintoki, former Joui patriot, into action. This was strictly an internal dispute and required no involvement from outsiders.

But, knowing the history of the Yorozuya, Hijikata supposed it was inevitable. They rarely let injustice pass unchallenged, even at the risk of their own lives.

Still, he had to know: “Why did you come?”

Tae glanced at him once. “Because I had to.”

Simple answers for loaded questions rarely satisfied him. “You know what I mean…you didn’t need to come at all. We’re not exactly going to be greeted with open arms when we get back. No matter how you look at it, they’re going to view it as treason – us, you, the Yorozuya…” Katsura and his Joui faction would remain unaffected because they were accustomed to life on the run, branded as traitors to begin with.

“I didn’t turn my back on the country,” Tae replied, “I came because I wanted to help save a man the country turned its back on instead.”

Hijikata couldn’t help asking, with some hesitation, “Do you…?”

“Do I love him? Is that what you’re asking?”

He nodded.

She frowned at him. “What kind of question is that for a time like this?”

“You know why,” he said stiffly, aware of how ridiculous he was being, but surely she knew how much Kondou cared about her.

“And if I do or don’t? Does it matter?”

Annoyed at the cross-examination turning on him, Hijikata retorted, “ _Look_ , I’m just trying to understand why the hell you would come here knowing you could be killed, why you would stand up for him like that back at the cabaret. You and I both know your relations with Kondou-san aren’t affectionate. I just want to know _why_ , alright? Because we’re not happy that you risked your life like this.”

“We?”

Hijikata blinked, also confused as to why he had included himself. “Yes, both of us. I have a duty to protect civilians and I don’t like when they willingly put themselves in danger. And I know Kondou-san, while flattered, probably won’t be happy to know you were in the battle. So, tell me – _why_?”

After a few long moments of silence, Tae answered, “I respect him. That’s all that matters most right now. Maybe we don’t get along as wonderfully as we could, but I know who Kondou-san is, contrary to what you might think.” She paused, nibbling on her bottom lip for a second. “I know he cares. I don’t know if I could ever return his feelings in the way he wants…but I know I wouldn’t feel right giving him up to execution. He’s a good man. Edo needs him.”

Hearing it straight from her lips, her honest feelings and earnest praises, was something of a relief – to know that she saw more in Kondou, after all.

“And besides,” Tae continued, looking at him directly, her eyes sharp, “would you ask that of the Yorozuya, Hijikata-san? Of all your men fighting under your orders? Civilian or soldier, do we all need a reason to fight for what’s right?”

“But—”

“This is my choice. It’s already done.” Tae faced the ocean again, kimono sleeves and hair whipping about her in the breeze, a subtle scent of chrysanthemum aloft. “I am here.”

Hijikata stared at her fresh scar. “You’ve already been hurt once.” She would bear it forever because of him.

Tae’s eyes met his, widening a fraction in recognition, as she reached to touch the wound on her neck, fingertip tracing its path. “This,” she said, “is nothing.”

“It didn’t need to happen. _I_ let it happen. It’s my fault and I…I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes in shame.

“You don’t need to apologize—”

“Just _let_ me, damn it.” He caught his breath and grimaced. “Sorry, I—”

“It’s okay, Hijikata-san. I understand, but please also understand that I don’t blame you for it. I knew the risks of going against that man. I blame him, not you.”

Hijikata knew he should get back to Kondou, people were probably searching for him, but this apology was necessary and while it wouldn’t ease his guilt, he was grateful for the opportunity to finally say it.

“Kawano-san seemed very devoted to you. He said he believed in you, and, well…he gave his life for you and Kondou-san. I’m sure all the Shinsengumi feel the same way.”

Opening his eyes, Hijikata shook his head. “They shouldn’t. I don’t want them to. I’d rather they live on.”

“But you…you would gladly give your life for Kondou-san, wouldn’t you?”

“I would,” he answered without hesitation, “Kondou-san’s life is worth more than mine.”

“I bet he’d disagree.”

“It’s the truth. I’m…I’m _nothing_ without him. I learned that tonight,” he finished quietly.

Tae gently asked, “What happened?”

Hijikata hesitated to answer, to remember.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to say,” Tae added quickly, “You listened to me, so I want to offer you the same chance if you need it. I know we…don’t always talk, but I want you to know that I respect you, too, Hijikata-san. And if you do share, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Something inside of him pounded on the walls, begged for release from a nightmare that he replayed over and over when his mind was idle. He didn’t want to tell Kondou about it, because the man didn’t need the added concern of Hijikata’s mental health. Sougo might understand, but Hijikata still felt he didn’t deserve anything from him because of Mitsuba.

Perhaps confiding into an outsider he trusted to keep her word would provide the catharsis he so desperately sought.

Taking a deep breath, Hijikata began telling her about a single moment that nearly sunk him deep in catatonia. “When Kondou-san was arrested and the Shinsengumi disbanded…I thought that was it. I thought I couldn’t do anything anymore, and so I resigned myself to a different job, trying to move on and do something instead of moping around. But I was a fool for feeling depressed then…I didn’t know yet, until tonight, what truly losing him would mean and how I would feel.”

He could feel Tae’s steady gaze boring into him, as he continued, “When we found Kondou-san again, he was arranged to appear dead, but I believed it. I was ready to give up, I…I was ready to commit seppuku for failing to protect Kondou-san…and hope that maybe…maybe I would see him in the afterlife and apologize to him. If it wasn’t for that Yorozuya idiot’s words, I probably would have died for sure, never knowing Kondou-san was alive.”

“It’s okay now,” Tae murmured, “He’s here, he’s alive. You brought him back.”

A lump ached painfully in his throat, remembering the bloody gash on Kondou’s face, his limp form bowed at the base of a tree. The memory followed Hijikata around like a spectre and would for days to come, perhaps years. “I’m not such a great person. The world could get along without me easily. It’s Kondou-san they need – someone merciful, benevolent, and strong. He’s all that and more, and _that’s_ why I would die for him.”

Silence followed his statement, and Hijikata inhaled deeply, finding his composure again, reminding himself that Kondou wasn’t dead.

“Somebody once told me that I’m not Buddha, and that there are things you can save and things you can’t,” Tae said softly, “Only a man like him – someone who has led and lost countless lives – could say such a thing.”

Hijikata remembered their conversation the evening of the day he received himself a good thrashing at the Yagyuu dojo. “Sounds like a cold man.” A cold man who had treated a woman harshly and let her die without making amends.  

“No, I don’t think so…he also told me that I should do what I can, even with half-hearted kindness. To me, that sounds like a person who would still try to save others, even with his dying breath.” Tae looked at him. “You don’t need to be a priest to save people, Hijikata-san. You just need to _act_ when the time comes. And you did. You all did. You lost people, but you also saved many, including Kondou-san. So please don’t say the world doesn’t need you because it does.”

Hijikata gazed into her warm brown eyes.

A small, bittersweet smile graced her lips. “You have a kind heart, too…Hijikata-san.”

Now he fully understood why Kondou and the rest of the Shinsengumi and all of Kabuki-chou admired Shimura Tae so much.

Tearing his eyes from hers, feeling awkward, Hijikata said, “Thank you for being there for Kawano. One of my men on the boat told me.”

“No need to thank me.”

During their conversation, the sun had risen halfway, illuminating the ocean, the morning takes its first breath. Their time away from war and politics was fast coming to an end, and they would have to face the outcome of their fateful decision to defy the government and rescue three men condemned to death.

“The Shinsengumi are going to leave, aren’t they?” Tae asked, her voice distant, face turned away from him toward the sunrise.

Flee Edo, amass supporters, or face execution together – he couldn’t tell at this point. All he knew was that Nobu Nobu would not let them rest and Hijikata would be damned if he had to serve under that man. “I don’t know,” he answered, and suddenly felt exhausted, the weight of the past several hours tumbling down upon his shoulders. His body ached in many places and he yearned for a dreamless sleep.

“We should head back inside,” Hijikata said, and Tae nodded, turning back the way they had come.

They reentered the main part of the hull where most people were stationed. Nothing had changed, except that Hijikata could see Kondou by his place on the far wall, standing up and patting the shoulders of some soldiers.

“I’m going to go see Kondou-san, and then check on the Yorozuya,” Tae said, and then bowed her head once. “Thank you, Hijikata-san. For everything.”

“No need to thank me,” he echoed her earlier words.

She walked ahead in Kondou’s direction, and Hijikata sighed, deciding he would wait a few minutes before going back to Kondou, too.

He reached inside his jacket, fumbling for the cigarette pack Kozenigata had given him. It seemed like hours since his last smoke, which really had been twenty minutes ago. He pulled out one of the two remaining sticks, took out his custom-made mayonnaise lighter, which had miraculously stayed intact within his uniform, and lit up.

“You shouldn’t smoke, Hijikata-san.”

He looked up and saw that she had stopped a few steps ahead, smiling at him.

“You’ll wreck your stamina and damage your lungs. We’re going to need you for a long time, you know.”

“We?”

“Yes. The Shinsengumi, the people of Edo, Kondou-san…all of us.” She paused, and then said in an amused voice, “Plus, it’s such a _nasty_ habit, almost as nasty as a pound of mayonnaise on rice.”

He conceded that smoking was unhealthy, but scowled at the insult to a most precious condiment. “Don’t bring mayonnaise into this. It might be the only thing that can make that dark matter fried egg of yours palatable,” he added, but secretly thought nothing could make that meal edible except mithridatism.

Sure enough, a storm rose up in her eyes, and for a second, she seemed poised to unleash a tirade on him, but he was relieved to see the Tae he knew best again – although he didn’t regret getting to know another side of her, either.

Instead of reacting angrily, Tae sighed and replied, “You may be right, Hijikata-san.” She gave him one last lingering smile tinged with melancholy. “You may be right.”

Hijikata watched her go.

Moving at an unhurried pace, she stopped every so often to offer assistance to the wounded, and, at one point, stooped down to help someone drink from a flask. Men came to her, bowing and expressing gratitude for her medical treatment and battle prowess.

Hijikata took his cigarette out and stared at it, exhaling tendrils of smoke before dropping it on the floor and crushing it whole beneath his boot.

Then, he went to Kondou and prepared to pay tribute to the fallen.


End file.
